An Eye For An Eye
by AngelisIgniRelucent
Summary: ...Only Leads To More Blindness - Kurt meeting blind!Blaine for the first time at Dalton - Dalton!verse
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, standardly jumping on the blind!Blaine bandwagon – rayychel infinity inspired me with her stunning deaf!Blaine fic 'Full Of Sound And Fury' (it's amazing, go check it out!) – disclaimer: I don't own.**

"Hi! I was just wondering when auditions were for the Warblers? Because I'd love to join!" Your forehead creases a little at quite how hard the shorter boy jumps when he hears your voice, but you shrug it off, offering your hand for him to shake. "I'm Kurt by the way – the new transfer."

"Oh, hi. I'm Blaine," but he ignores your proffered hand. You wince a little at the cool rejection – maybe Dalton boys just had a less detectable way of bullying. You start to worry the bottom of your lip with your teeth as you contemplate this, and a combination of that and you realising how absolutely gorgeous this guy is, causes you to completely miss the dates and times he reels off for the auditions.

"Um, sorry, I didn't quite catch all of that. So, Tuesday…?"  
>"No, silly," he chuckles, and you feel your mouth drop open at the sound of his laugh – rich and warm, like melted chocolate, "Wednesday at 4:30." You feel your cheeks flame bright red as you realise that your mouth is still open, and slam it closed with a snap. He starts a little at the sound, and you see a slight flush beginning to colour his own cheeks. You look at him, curiously, wondering why he's so embarrassed, before you come to the conclusion that it's because you're probably making such a fool of yourself. You try to meet his eyes in order to gauge quite how true your assumption had been, but he's studying the strap of his satchel rather too intently. You're about to make an, albeit flustered, exit when a small boy with a wild mess of curls comes running up, stumbling a little over his own feet.<p>

"Blaine!" he calls in relief, and Blaine looks up at the sound of his name. "There you are! God, we were so worried! You can't just go off on one like that!"  
>"Geez, Reed! I'm not entirely incapable, you know!" he snaps, and you cock your head to the side in confusion.<br>"Who's your new friend?"  
>"Oh, this is Kurt – he wants to try out for the Warblers!" and his voice turns all bouncy and it makes your heart flutter.<br>"Awesome!" Reed enthuses, then he looks at you for a second, evaluating. "He's quite tall – taller than you," he suddenly says, turning to Blaine, "and he's got really light skin and chestnut-y hair … and a good fashion sense – I approve - … _and he's blushing_."  
>You blink in a mixture of confusion and chagrin and open your mouth to say something, but a glance at Blaine's face tells you all you need to know. His cheeks are still stained with colour, but his head is lifted defiantly and you can see his warm, honey-coloured eyes roam sightlessly around the hallway.<p>

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realise …" and you tail off awkwardly as Blaine elbows Reed in the ribs and Reed lets out a slight laugh around the huff of air which escapes his lungs.  
>"That's okay," he says good-naturedly, "he's good at hiding it. Come on now, Blaine, or we're going to be late for English <em>again<em>." Blaine reaches out his hand, searchingly, and Reed takes it, securing it on his arm.  
>"It was nice to meet you, Kurt," Blaine says as they walk away.<br>"…You too!" you call too-late after their retreating backs. You're left standing in a rapidly emptying corridor, marvelling at how proud a figure Blaine cuts against the backdrop of the last few students rushing to lessons.

o~o~o

Wednesday, 4:30, that's what he said, right? And a minute ago you were a hundred per cent sure, but the more you think about it … was it Tuesday? You dismiss your doubts as you approach the door to what was coined the 'Warblers' Hall', pressing your ear to the wood as you try to sense any sort of movement within. Footsteps behind you make you start, guiltily, and you turn to apologise whoever it was that was going to accuse you of spying, but you choke on your words as you see Blaine striding confidently, if slowly, towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Kurt?" and he says it like a question that he already knows the answer to.  
>"Hi Blaine!" and you wince at how falsely bright you sound. You stop a moment, afraid of being rude, but your curiosity gets the better of you. "How did you …?"<br>"How did I know it was you?" and the wry twist of his mouth tells you this isn't the first time he's been asked. "Well, I recognised your breathing." You just stare at him blankly for a moment before you remember that he can't see your facial expression. Right. You open your mouth to speak, but he ploughs on regardless. "That and the fact that hardly anyone comes down here when there isn't a performance except the Warblers, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be sneaking around like you," but he smiles to soften his words and you feel your breathing speed up.

"Are you okay?" he asks because, goddammit he can hear your breathing, and you nod like an idiot before hurrying to articulate.  
>"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine – just nervous, you know?"<br>"Don't be," he says, brushing past you and opening the door with graceful ease. He holds it open, gesturing for you to go through, and you feel the blush heating your cheeks again as you stutter out a 'thank you'. You're slightly surprised to see that the hall is empty, and you turn around to ask, but he's already one step ahead of you. "Yeah – the Warblers trust me enough to sort the wheat from the chaff, if you know what I mean. You've got to get past me if you want a full audition." And the little smirk on his face is like a challenge – a ridiculously attractive challenge – but a challenge nonetheless. You realise it's pointless, but you put your game face on.

**TBC … maybe … you tell me? D'ya like it?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's been so long, guys! I totally wasn't expecting as many alerts as I got, so thank you! **

You keep your eyes fixed on his face as the last few notes of your song fade, sort of glad that he can't see the way your arm is raised to punctuate the music, because now you just feel like a bit of an idiot. You're slightly disconcerted by how still and quiet he is, completely motionless except for his eyes, which are roaming wildly until they fix on a spot in your general direction. You clear your throat awkwardly to cut through the silence which has suddenly flooded the room with some sort of emotion, but you're not quite sure what. The intensity is beginning to make your hands tremble and you abruptly break the 'eye contact', striding over to the couch he's sitting on and perching yourself at the opposite end of it.

"So … what did you think?" and although your voice is timid, it seems too loud after the music and the silence. He blinks slowly, twice, then turns his body so that he's facing you. He keeps his eyes down, but he reaches his hand out towards you, searching. You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what he's expecting you to do, but then you softly place your hand in his. You feel a spark of electricity and jump slightly, causing a slight smile to grace his features. He uses your hand to pull you closer, so you're beside him, then places his other one on top. Squeezing gently, he raises his face.

"That was …" and you're surprised to find that he sounds a little choked, "I don't even know. 'Beautiful' isn't the right word – it's not good enough. That was absolutely … it took my breath away." And by this point your eyes are practically bugging out of their sockets and you can feel a lump forming in your throat. You're completely incapable of forming words – he actually seems genuinely _moved _by your singing. You'd never had that effect on somebody before, and the fact that it's this gorgeous, confident, brave, _brave _boy just makes your heart swell. You clear your throat again, this time to try and get rid of the lump, but he misunderstands, pulling his hands back from yours immediately. "Sorry, I- I didn't mean to … I mean, I use my hands a lot to, you know, make up for … sorry if I made you uncomfortable-"

"No, no, I-" and you reach for his hand again. He jumps a little at the unexpected contact, but relaxes into your grip. "I just … no one's ever … no one's ever appreciated me like that before," and the concern on his face is so genuine that it makes you want to cry. Rather embarrassingly, a sort of half-choked-off sob manages to claw its way from your throat.  
>"Oh, Kurt," he sighs, gripping your hand tighter and pulling you towards him. He reaches out his other arm like a request and, shyly, you let him pull you into a hug. You sniffle into his shoulder until your outburst of emotion has calmed to the occasional hiccough. He shushes your apologies, just holding you and it feels <em>so damn good <em>not to be judged.

"Kurt, wha- what was your old school like?" and the question is so carefully phrased that you know he's really asking what it was that drove a poor kid like you to one of the most expensive schools in Ohio. What it was that had made you so emotionally unstable – _god, _he probably thinks there's something wrong with you. You try to sound as dignified as possible as you reply, but you don't think it works.

"I –uh– had some bullying issues," and you suck in a deep breath before you rush through the next bit, "becauseI'mgay,youknow?"  
>"Sorry?" and dammit, now you have to repeat it. And he'll probably accuse you of trying to sexually assault him because you gave him a hug. Way to lose the only friend you've made, Hummel.<br>"Because I'm, um, gay." The smile that nearly splits his face in half almost gives you a heart attack, but you're pretty sure that his reply practically made your heart jump out of your chest.  
>"Oh, so am I." And he said it, casual as you like, without even batting an eyelid. You simply gaped, trying to comprehend this miracle at the same time as getting your heart back on track. Neither really worked, and the latter certainly wasn't helped by him moving his hand to rest right over your heart, humming a little as he hears its frantic beating. The hum sends vibrations through your whole body and you can feel the flush rising on your neck.<p>

"It must've been pretty bad for you to have to transfer …" and the warmth that was slowly spreading through you stops abruptly.  
>"Um, yeah," and that's all the answer you're willing to give right now. Even the thought of it makes your breathing rate pick up, and you feel panicky at the proximity of this other warm body. You get up quickly, startling him with your abrupt movement. "Sorry, I've … got to go …" and you grab your bag, rushing towards the door before the panic can set in fully.<p>

"Oh, Kurt?" and you can't help but pause at the sound of his rich, warm voice. "You're in."

**Sorry it's so short – I really have no idea where this is going – I'm just making it up as I go along! But reviews make me type faster :D  
>xx<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, I don't remember if I put this at the beginning or not, but DISCLAIMER: everything you recognise from canon belongs to FOX, and everything from the amazing Dalton!verse belongs to our darling Mama CP!**

It's only your first day here, and already you feel like you're accepted. Well … if you can call it that. A few boys from your French class talked the teacher into letting you into their house – Windsor? Yeah, Windsor – and they seemed really keen to get you there. Maybe making friends wouldn't be as hard as you thought, but the only person you really care about making a good impression on is Blaine, and you're slightly worried that it's too late for that and he thinks you're an overly-emotional lunatic who's prone to breakdowns, which is just em_barr_assing. You try not to dwell on it, hoping that if you ignore it for long enough, it will go away, thinking instead, with some measure of relief, that you've only got one more class today. You try to remember the directions that Wes from your history class had just given you to get to your art class. Hopelessly lost, you're about to stop one of the boys on the stairwell when you catch sight of an all-too-familiar gel-helmet bobbing towards you down the corridor. You freeze for a moment, wandering whether to approach him or to run away, until you realise with a blush that you could just stand there and he would walk right by … unless he _recognises your breathing _or something.

Pressing your back into the wall so you're out of the way of the general always-rushing student body, you keep your eyes fixed on his hair and try to breathe as quietly as possible as he gets nearer, but as he does, you notice how irregular and jerky his normally-confident walk looks. Glancing to either side of him, your eyes widen as you take in the identical boys, each with a shock of white-blond hair, walking there. Your forehead wrinkles as you try to figure out whether they're just escorting him to his class or … no … they've got their arms looped through his and they're practically _dragging _him. You let out a gasp of shock, looking around you in alarm, but nobody else seemed to have noticed. The sight was all too familiar to you, if seen from a different angle – usually it was _you_ being dragged off for a dumpster-toss or some such like, with everybody turning a blind eye to your distress. And you'd thought Dalton would be different, but here were a couple of bullies, picking on the _blind _boy of all people!

Determined not to be a bystander, you follow them down the hall, trying to figure out how to make your voice sound loud and assured, trying to figure out what to say to get them to leave Blaine alone as well as what would most make him fall in love with you … wait, what? Completely side-tracked by your unruly thoughts, you don't pay attention to the fact that you are blindly following a pair of potentially dangerous boys into a more deserted and less-well-lit part of the school until they stop walking abruptly.

"We know you're following us," come a pair of eerily synchronised voices, and you feel yourself shiver slightly. "But no, you're not, are you? You're following your white rabbit," and even their laughs are synchronised, and okay, this is just _creepy_. "We think you want to be his knight – don't you? … _Alice,"_ and they punctuate the last word by spinning around to face you, dragging Blaine with them. You're about to call out to him, regardless of what these terrifying twins might do, but you're completely derailed when you see the expression on his face. For the most part, it's _bored_, with just a hint of annoyance with turns swiftly into an apologetic grimace.

"Sorry about these two, Kurt – just ignore them – they're just trying to scare you."  
>"No we weren't!" they cried, indignant, "we were trying to interrogate <em>you<em> … it's not _our_ fault that little Alice likes to follow you down rabbit-holes."  
>"Blaine, I don't understand! I thought they were … you know … going to <em>hurt <em>you … but what do they mean 'interrogate' you? And why do they keep calling me 'Alice'?"

"Because that's who you are." Only one of them says it this time, but they both cock their heads slowly to the right and, okay, you've had en_ough_.  
>"Firstly, my name is <em>Kurt Elizabeth Hummel<em>, secondly, I don't really know what's going on here, but _leave Blaine alone_!"  
>"See? We told you – he wants to be your knight," and they're back to speaking together, somehow delighting in your angry outburst. Blaine however, does not seem amused.<br>"Guys, cool it. Kurt, these are the Brightman twins, Evan," he said, elbowing the boy on his left, "and Ethan," doing the same to the one on his right. "They're … well, they're … you'll get used to them. They just wanted to see if you were Windsor material – if you'd follow us down here."  
>"Of course he followed you – white rabbit, remember?"<br>"Oh, and they're into their Alice in Wonderland references – you'll get used to that too."  
>"But what did they mean 'interrogate'?"<br>"We're right here, you know – you could always ask _us_," and their matching grins remind you of a Cheshire cat and, oh god, there _you _go with the references.

"Nothing – it doesn't matter," says Blaine, a little too quickly, "I've got to get to class now anyway or I'm going to be late and Murdoch's going to _kill_ me … Tweedles, could you get me there?" and he tugs on their arms, suddenly eager to get out of there.  
>"We're in the East Wing, Blaine – you know your way from here. Off you go," they encourage, un-looping their arms from his and giving him a nudge in the right direction.<br>"But-"  
>"No 'but's Blaine. We've got to … <em>acquaint <em>ourselves with dear Alice," and as they say this, you find them suddenly on either side of you, and then they're linking arms with you and you're halfway down the corridor before you can even blink.

"Be careful with him!" calls Blaine after you, and you smile a little into your collar.  
>"Oh, we won't break him – we know you want to keep him," they call back, and the sound of the blood rushing to your face drowns out Blaine's reply.<p>

**Sorry if this was OOC – I tried! And again – I'm just making it up as I go along, so please don't eat me if the 'plot' is kinda lame (haha, plot? What plot?). And honestly, guys, reviews really do make me write faster!  
>xx<strong>


End file.
